


Broken

by Cherith



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-05
Updated: 2010-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherith/pseuds/Cherith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a small bit from Buffy's perspective about their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Written post Season 7 with no knowledge of Season 8. Post Angel Season 5.

She'd known of course, saw it that very first time they met -- that something wasn't right. Of course, at the time, she'd assumed it was something else. It was easy to see that Drusilla was truly cracked, but she'd not realized. It got easier over time. Easier to see that it wasn't all Drusilla's influence, most of it was him, must've been there before.

Of course, of all the reasons not to be with him, it became the biggest one. It also became the one thing that drew her back to him. And there were plenty of reasons, good ones too - all of them. He was a vampire, and a slayer of Slayers. That would've should've been sufficent enough reason. He was British, short, skinny, rude. He smoked, swore and was stuck in some sort of 80's fashion crisis. And then there was that one. The big reason. It manifested slowly to her over the years. But it was only when she came back that she really saw, really comprehended.

And then there was later. For a time, when things were good between them. She felt complete. Alive. But she could sense it, when they were close. Somewhere under the surface, he was cracked...broken. The pieces were drifting further and futher apart. And she knew, she saw it. She stopped it. And she hoped that it would be enough; that the pieces would be able to fall back into place.

He'd told her stories then. Told her about Cecily once, about the poetry. And she told him stories too. About Riley (Captain Cardboard, he said). And Angel (hmph, poof). They'd lie quiet afterwards, not talking and all the reasons would bubbled up inside her. That's when she'd pick up her things and leave.

Later, there was no mask to hide it. She hoped he'd get better without her. Instead he degraded, let the pieces slip out of his grasp. And when he came back, there was little could be done to fix it. It didn't help that all those pieces were scooped up by the one, the First. The thing that took them, and scrambled them almost unrecognizable to him. She tried to help him then, but it was too late.

And then it was over. In a great flash of light, he was gone. And all her words were of no use to him. She'd tried to comfort him in the end, and yet he wasn't broken enough. Not enough to believe in the comfort she tried to offer. She wandered a lot after that. Learned to think of all the reasons she never should've. He always wore that stupid jacket. He talked a lot, and too loudly. He had silly ideas, weird friends, and played poker with kittens. He drank -- a lot, and every now and again he smelled of death.

But then, there he was. The same, but different. Alive, sort of. And here, with her. It was still there of course, she could still see it in his eyes, but now farther away. Like he'd found a bit of something he'd been missing. Times were different now. She told him stories. Told him about The Immortal (he knew, he said) about the work and the girls. And he told her stories too. He told her about Illyria (a god) and Angel (still a poof, he said). Afterwards, she'd lie close to him and she could sense it, the drifting pieces. And the reasons would still trickle in to remind her why it shouldn't be him. And then there was the one reason, the main reason. This time, it didn't drive her away. She was too much like him now, shared the same broken background, same drifting pieces. This time...she stayed.


End file.
